


Caribbean Getaway

by Dawn Cunningham (Delta_Dawn)



Series: Highlander stories with Tessa [8]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7193519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delta_Dawn/pseuds/Dawn%20Cunningham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duncan, Tessa and Richie's Caribbean vacation starts out badly as their plane is hijacked. But then it gets worse...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caribbean Getaway

Caribbean Getaway. By Dawn Cunningham

Standard disclaimers apply. Duncan, Tessa and Richie belong to Rysher. All other characters are figments of my imagination.

This story takes place during the first season after the episode See No Evil.

By the way, this story is the one that Richie was whining about last December in my story Voices. After much pouting, arguing, and negotiation, Richie and I reached a compromise that we were both happy with so that I could finish the story.

************************************** 

Caribbean Getaway By Dawn Cunningham

Richie Ryan squirmed in his seat trying to get comfortable. He had come to the decision over two hours ago that whoever designed airplane seats didn't understand the first thing about human anatomy. Especially the part you sat on. His was numb by this point.

The only good thing about this leg of the trip, so far, was that his seat companion had finally fallen asleep. Jack Simmons had spent the first forty minutes of the flight showing Richie pictures of his two grandkids. Jack was on his way to see them, his first time since the youngest had been born.

The first two legs of the trip hadn't been too bad. The planes that carried them from Seacouver to Chicago to Miami had been jumbo jets and they had first class seats. Then they had shifted to this smaller plane that held sixty people, although it was only about two thirds full. The seats were much smaller and leg room had not been an option.

Richie glanced over to the other side of the plane wondering how Duncan was managing since he was taller and had longer legs. Much to his dismay, the Highlander looked perfectly comfortable and was engrossed in a book he had brought along. Tessa had her seat back and appeared to be napping. Richie had tried to do that, but when he leaned his seat back, he felt like he was sliding off the front of it. Plus the rotten kid behind him kept kicking the seat until he gave in and moved it back to the upright position.

Richie thought about trying the same approach on the seat in front of him. The man sitting there had his seat as far back as it would go and Richie was tired of staring at the bald spot forming on the man's head. If the man had gotten the seat back any further, his head would have been in Richie's lap.

Richie stared out the window but all he could see was water. Lots of water. His mind drifted back to that day, a week ago, when Duncan had come out of the office with a letter and two sets of airline tickets in his hand. He and Tessa had been invited to visit an Immortal friend of his, Matt Dunkirk, to help celebrate Matt's five hundredth birthday.

Tessa had looked excited when Duncan said they would be spending a week on a tropical island in the Caribbean. Richie knew she still had nightmares about the day she had to save him from the serial killer the press had nicknamed 'The Scalper.' The madman had tried to kill a friend of Tessa's and when she saw him go after Richie with his knife, she had reacted and run the man down with the T-bird. Even knowing that she had helped get the madman off the streets had not lessened her guilt over hurting another human being. Tessa had talked to him about it several times since it had happened.

Richie still remembered the sinking feeling he had gotten when he realized there were only two sets of tickets. Something must have shown on his face, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, because the next day he found a set of airline tickets sitting next to his plate at breakfast. He had picked them up and stared at them in disbelief while Duncan and Tessa had beamed at him from across the table.

"Wh..what's this?" Richie had asked.

"Looks like airline tickets to me," Duncan said. "What do you think, Tessa?"

Tessa plucked the tickets from Richie's hand and studied them very carefully. "Yes, I do believe you're right, Duncan. They *are* airline tickets. And they're made out to Richard Ryan."

"Oh man. I don't believe this," Richie stared at his two friends. "I'm going to the Caribbean... on a plane?"

"That's how most people get there, Richie," Duncan said with a smile.

"I mean, I've never been on a plane. What if I get air-sick?"

Duncan laughed at that comment. "Anybody whose stomach can handle three chili-dogs at one time has very little chance of getting air-sick."

"Okay. But what about the Bermuda Triangle? Will we be anywhere near there? I've heard all about the planes and ships that disappear there. I think they've been taken by UFOs. It could happen to us!" He couldn't decide if he was excited or alarmed by the prospect.

"Richie, you worry too much," Duncan insisted. "Dozens of planes and ships go through the Triangle every day without a problem. Just because a handful of planes and ships disappear doesn't mean that they've been snatched up by aliens."

"It doesn't mean they haven't been either!"

"Stop worrying. Tessa and I have taken this trip several times. Trust me." Duncan rose from his chair and left the room. Tessa got up a few minutes later, leaving Richie alone in the kitchen.

Richie continued to stare at the tickets that Tessa had laid back down on the table. "The Caribbean. Wow! Beaches.... the ocean.... bikinis! I can see it now. Me, the beach and lots of hot babes in bikinis. Life is good. Oh yeah." Richie practically drooled at the thought.

Tessa took him shopping that afternoon to buy him a whole new wardrobe of summer clothes, insisting he would need them in the Caribbean. No matter how hard Richie tried to convince her otherwise, Tessa kept adding more things to the growing stack. By the time she was done, Richie figured he had enough clothes to be able to change at least three times a day during their stay.

Richie had asked for Duncan's advice concerning a birthday gift for his friend. It took two days of shopping before he found a nice set of cufflinks in his price range. He even paid to have the present professionally wrapped, not wishing to embarrass Duncan and Tessa with his own clumsy attempts at gift wrapping. The gift was now tucked into the new suitcase that Duncan had given him earlier in the week.

This morning, anticipation had been replaced by anxiety over his first big trip. The only time he had ever been out of Seacouver had been on trips to Duncan's island and that seemed minor compared to twelve hours of flying. Not even thinking about beaches and bikinis could distract him. Richie tried to act like taking his first plane trip was no big deal but he had the feeling that he hadn't fooled Tessa or Duncan based on the amused looks they kept passing between themselves.

Duncan offered to let Richie sit by Tessa once they boarded the plane but Richie refused and sat down across the aisle from them in his assigned window seat. When the stewardess started the safety lecture, he paid very close attention, digging out the card from the seat in front of him to follow along like she suggested. A quick glance across the aisle shocked him when he realized Tessa was flipping through a magazine and Duncan already had his book open. Fine. If there was an emergency he at least would be prepared. Duncan probably didn't care, after all he could survive an airplane crash but he was surprised that Tessa hadn't been concerned. By the third takeoff, he realized why they hadn't paid any attention. They had probably heard the same spiel dozens of times. Richie now felt like he could give the speech himself.

By the time the plane had been ready to take off, Richie regretted his decision to sit by himself. He gripped the arms of his seat so hard that he'd been surprised he hadn't ripped them off or at least left deep impressions from his fingers. Once airborne, his panic had subsided and he started to enjoy the trip, gazing out the window at the distant ground.

Now, hours later, he just wished the trip would be over. His bored eyes turned to watch as one of the passengers from the back of the plane walked by his seat. For a moment Richie could have sworn the man was hiding a gun under his jacket but then he dismissed the idea. No one could smuggle a gun onto a plane past those metal detectors.

Richie would never, ever forget the embarrassment of setting off the alarm when he walked through the security check this morning. He had pulled loose change and his key ring out of his pocket while Duncan and Tessa waited for him on the other side. He tried to walk through the gate only to have it buzz again. This time the security officer told him to empty all his pockets and he had done so while dozens of people behind him waited impatiently. On his third try he had passed successfully through the gate, but he felt like his face was bright red as he had picked up his paraphernalia and crammed it back in his pockets. Later, Mac had insisted that there had only been two people behind him but Richie was still convinced that there had been a crowd of people to witness his humiliation.

Richie watched as the man went up to the stewardess and talked to her for a moment. She looked towards the back of the plane before leading the man to the door of the cockpit and opening it. Richie looked back curiously and saw two men standing at the back of the plane with the other stewardess who looked almost frightened. Warning bells went off in his head and he tried to get Duncan's attention. Before he could, the Captain's voice came over the loud speaker.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is the Captain speaking. Please do not panic. This plane has been hijacked. We are being diverted to a different island where we will land. Please do everything they ask and they have promised not to hurt anyone. Thank you."

The men at the back pulled automatic weapons out of a bag and moved quickly down the aisle, positioning themselves at even intervals. Another voice came over the intercom and started giving orders.

"Okay folks, listen up. Just do as you're told and no one will get hurt. There will be no talking from this point on. Anyone caught talking will be punished. Any resistance will be met with force."

Richie glanced over at Duncan and Tessa. She had a death grip on the Immortal's hand but other than that, she seemed calm. When Duncan gave him a warning look, Richie just nodded, silently promising not to cause trouble. Mac gave him a small reassuring smile before returning his gaze towards the armed men. Richie shifted his gaze forward as well.

*****

Duncan tried to force his anger down. There had to be three men, one in the cockpit and the two standing in the aisle. He couldn't think of any way to stop this from happening. He couldn't risk automatic gunfire around this many people. Even a single bullet could cause the plane to depressurize and cause untold damage. For now, he would just have to wait and see what happened. He felt helpless and that was a feeling he seldom had.

Duncan studied the man standing close to his seat. He was about the same height as Duncan but a little stockier. There was nothing unusual to mark the man, he wore casual clothes just like most of the other men on the plane. His brown hair was well groomed in a current style. His face had no unusual features or marks, not ugly but not handsome either. The man was...average. Only the automatic gun made him worthy of notice.

Duncan tried to figure out what the men could be after. It could be a simple ransom situation. Or they might be making a political statement. The only other idea he could come up with was that they needed the plane for some reason. In all but the first case, the hostages' lives were expendable. If it was a ransom demand, lives might also be sacrificed if their demands were not met. Whatever the reason, these men appeared to be well trained. This hijacking had been too well planned. That fact bothered Duncan more than anything.

Duncan could tell that the plane was getting ready to land. He had no idea where they were. They had been ordered to lower their window shades two hours ago, so there was no way to see anything. It took another ten minutes before the plane coasted to a stop.

Once the front door was opened, another man joined the others on the plane. He escorted the flight crew off and then returned. He started down the aisle looking closely at every passenger as he went. When he reached the sixth row where they were sitting, things changed. The man looked at Richie, glanced down at a paper in his hand, then stared at the young man again.

"You." The man waved his gun at Richie. "Come with me."

Richie hesitated a moment before standing up and climbing over Jack Simmons' legs. He glanced down at Duncan as he exited the row. The man got impatient and hit Richie in the back with the butt of his gun, sending the boy sprawling in the aisle.

Duncan started to get to his feet only to find the gun now pointing directly in his face. He sank back down in his seat, his fists clenched in anger. "Where are you taking him?" he demanded.

"No talking!" the man barked, striking Duncan's face with the back of his hand, before turning back to Richie.

Richie gave a small gasp of pain, quickly cut off, as he was jerked roughly to his feet. Only Tessa's restraining hand kept Duncan in his seat and they had watched, helplessly, as Richie was escorted through the open door.

The man returned shortly and continued his search through the plane. Twice more a young man around Richie's age was escorted from the plane. After the last search, the man returned to the front of the plane.

"Your attention please. Everyone will leave the plane one row at a time. Do not talk. Do not take any baggage or purses. You will be shown to a barracks where you will stay."

Duncan and Tessa exchanged worried looks as they waited their turn to exit the plane. Coming down the stairs, they could see their plane had been taxied into a hangar next to a smaller plane. The same man who had taken Richie off the plane stood at the foot of the stairs and directed them through the open doors and into the bright tropical sun.

Duncan looked around as they walked towards the barracks. There were several different buildings. One contained the control tower, radio antennas sticking up from the roof. Most of the buildings appeared to be in a derelict condition. Their destination was a building that looked like it had been maintained better than most. Another man stood at the door and gestured for them to go inside.

The building was one large room, filled with bunks, each covered with a dirty mattress. There were plenty of windows, all open to catch any stray breeze, but they all had iron bars covering them. Three large fans slowly rotated from the ceiling above, providing some relief from the tropical heat. The only other door was along the side wall of the building and Duncan went over to investigate while Tessa went to claim two of the bunks. Opening the door he discovered a small bathroom--just a single sink and stool. He turned the faucets on and water gushed out.

Leaving the room, he went over to where Tessa was sitting perched on the edge of a bunk. He took off his jacket and tossed it on the upper bunk next to the one Tessa had chosen, to reserve it for Richie. The lower bunk had already been claimed by Richie's seat companion, Jack Simmons. Duncan sat down next to Tessa and placed one arm around her, pulling her close. They both jumped when the door was slammed shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of it being locked. Noise erupted through the room as if that had been a signal for everyone to start talking at once.

Duncan looked around at the people present. Most of the passengers appeared to be couples. There were five children besides the three missing teenagers. They all looked old enough to be school age. The oldest person was Richie's seat companion. Duncan had heard him telling Richie about his grandkids but he only looked like he was in his fifties. All of the rest he guessed were somewhere between twenty-five and forty-five. Nobody was panicking yet, but there were worried expressions on many of the faces.

"Why did they take Richie and those other boys?" Tessa asked, anxiety coloring her voice.

"I wish I knew, Tessa," Duncan replied, his own worry about Richie barely being kept in check.

No one heard the door unlocking due to the noise level inside, so it was a shock to most when the door was thrown open. All conversation ceased. One of the guards stood in the doorway and called out the names Dave and Janet Malone. A couple stood up and went to the door where the guard waved them outside. The door was slammed shut again and locked.

Fifteen minutes passed before the door reopened and the Malones walked back into the room with one of the teenagers. The guard called out another name and this time a woman was escorted from the room. Duncan and Tessa hurried over to talk to the Malones to see what they could find out. After introducing themselves, Duncan asked the Malones what had happened to them.

The teenager was their son Steve and he started. "They took me to a room and started asking me all kinds of questions, like my birthdate and where I was born, where I went to school, that kind of thing. They wanted to know if I had any pictures of my parents, which I did."

"They asked me the same types of questions," Dave Malone chipped in. Janet nodded in agreement. "Not about us, but about Steve. It was like they were trying to prove he wasn't our son. They seemed to lose interest when I showed them a picture of Steve in his football uniform taken two years ago."

"Do you have any idea why they singled out just the teenagers for questioning?" Duncan asked.

Before they had a chance to answer, the door opened again and the other teenager came through it with the woman who had been called the last time. Neither Duncan nor Tessa were surprised when their names were called next. They were escorted back to the hangar and through a side door that opened onto a long hallway filled with doors on either side.

Duncan paused at one room as he felt the aura of a pre-Immortal and he knew that Richie was just on the other side of the door. The guard roughly pushed him down the corridor. Another man stood at an open door and he gestured Tessa into the room, following her in and shutting the door behind him. Duncan moved on to the last room where yet another man stood and soon he was alone with him with the door shut.

"Be seated," the man ordered as he went around to the other side of a table sitting in the middle of the room. The table and two chairs were the only furniture in the room. The man sat down on the far side of the table and began his interrogation once Duncan sat down.

The first few questions dealt with his name, where he lived and where he was headed on the trip. Duncan studied the man as the interrogation continued. He was in his mid-fifties, dressed in tan slacks and a army green tank top. He sported a tan that indicated long periods spent in the sun. His rugged face was marred by a two inch scar running down one cheek and his whole demeanor bespoke military training.

"Who were you traveling with?"

"Tessa Noel and Richie Ryan."

"And what are their relationships to you?"

"Tessa is my... " Sometimes Duncan had a hard time deciding how to refer to Tessa. His lover? His soul-mate? His life? None of them seemed appropriate here. "...partner. Richie is our friend. He works for us in our antique store. He also lives with us."

"And how long has the boy lived with you?"

"It's been about six months."

"And what is the boy's birth date."

"September...uh..." Duncan struggled to remember what date Richie's birthday fell on. "uh... I can't remember the exact date."

"You don't know your friend's birthday? And yet you claim he lives with you?"

"I have a lousy memory for dates. Tessa handles that for me," Duncan lied. He hoped that she would remember the date assuming she would be asked the same questions.

"What year?"

That question was just a matter of math. "1974."

"And the boy was traveling with you?"

"Yes, he was. I bought his tickets for him."

"Then why were his tickets purchased weeks after yours?"

Duncan wondered how he knew that. "A friend bought my tickets as well as Tessa's quite some time ago, not realizing that Richie had moved in with us. When I got the tickets in the mail, I got my friend's permission to bring him along and bought him the tickets he would need."

"Do you have any pictures or proof that he is who you say he is?"

"No, I don't." Duncan wasn't the only camera shy person living at the antique store. He knew that pictures could lead to embarrassing questions sometime in the future about why he hadn't aged, so he avoided them with a passion. He had no idea why Richie didn't like to have his picture taken but whenever Tessa had her camera out, Richie always seemed to disappear.

"Do you know Gerald Wakefield?" The man watched him intently as he asked the question.

This question stumped Duncan. The rest of the questions had made sense based on what the Malones had told him. "No. I've never heard of him."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, why?"

The man ignored his question, got up and went out to the hallway, leaving Duncan in the room. Through the closed door came the sounds of men arguing but Duncan couldn't hear what they were saying.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Duncan was told that he could go back to the barracks. As he started down the hallway, Tessa also emerged from her room. Duncan expected Richie to also come out of his room but they were marched past it without stopping. Duncan turned to question their guard.

"What about Richie? Why aren't you letting him go?"

The guard responded by viciously jabbing Duncan in the stomach with the butt of his gun, sending the Highlander to his knees in a burst of pain. Behind him, he heard Tessa's gasped "Duncan!" as he tried to force air back into his lungs. He stared at up the automatic weapon now aimed at his head and briefly debated trying to disarm the guard. He discarded the idea quickly as he felt Tessa kneel down by him. There was too big of a risk to her should the weapon go off while he tried to get the gun away from their guard. He let Tessa help him to his feet, the pain quickly disappearing as they headed back to the barracks.

Duncan listened to the door being locked behind them with a heavy heart. He couldn't help but worry about what was happening to Richie and to wonder if he was to blame. He mentally kicked himself for not remembering Richie's birthday. How could one little date be so important? He followed Tessa back to their bunks.

Jack Simmons sat up when they drew close. "Where's Richie?"

"They didn't release him," Duncan replied, shortly. He sat down next to Tessa and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair as he tried to ignore the guilt he felt.

Thirty minutes went by before the door opened again. Duncan and Tessa's hopes that Richie would come through the door were squashed when the Captain entered carrying a large box. Two other crew members were with him, each carrying a box that they set down before leaving with one of the two armed guards that had accompanied them.

The Captain set his box down and started to speak. "Can I have your attention please." He paused for a moment. "In these boxes, there's one bottle of water for each person in the room. I don't know when you will get more so I suggest you conserve it. I don't recommend drinking the water that is piped into the bathroom. I'm trying to arrange for you to get food, but I can't make any promises. The hijackers have sent a ransom demand to the airline with a noon deadline tommorrow. That's all I know at this point." He turned and left the room.

Duncan quickly moved over to the boxes. Several men joined him there and they helped him pass out the liter bottles of water. It didn't take long to complete, everyone patiently waited their turns and no one made any complaints. Duncan took the remaining two bottles back to his cot, strongly bothered by the fact that there wasn't one left for Richie. He handed one to Tessa before opening his own. He took a few sips of his water. It was warm but still tasted good. He could have swallowed the whole thing but he closed it before he gave in to the temptation.

An hour later, the sound of plane engines broke the silence and Duncan hurried to the windows, along with many of the other captives, to see what was happening. The small plane rolled out of the hangar and took off. When nothing else happened he returned to his bunk.

*****

Richie wiped his sweaty palms against his pants. The small room he had been escorted to was hot and stuffy. It contained a table and two chairs and had a small window set high in the wall. Richie climbed on one of the chairs and looked out but all he could see was a wide open area with what he imagined a jungle would look like just beyond it. He climbed off the chair and started pacing.

Soon an older man with a scar on his face showed up and started questioning him. Richie nicknamed him Scar in his mind.

The questions were simple--name, age, address, parents, school--and Richie answered them while his mind spun in circles trying to figure out what was going on.

"Do you have any proof that you are who you say you are?" Scar asked.

"I have my driver's license." Richie dug his wallet out of his back pocket, extracted the license and gave it to Scar.

Scar looked at it closely, before tossing it back to Richie. "This doesn't prove anything. I could have one of these made with any name I wanted on it. I think you're lying to me. I think you're Richard Wakefield. Why don't you just admit it and make this easy on yourself."

"My name is Ryan not Wakefield," Richie insisted. "I don't know how to prove it but that's who I am."

"Were you traveling with anyone?"

Richie couldn't decide whether he should tell them about Mac and Tessa. He didn't want them to get hurt or in trouble just because of him. Still, they could tell this jerk who he really was. Maybe that would get him out of this room sooner. He told Scar their names.

"What is your relationship with these people?"

"They're my friends. I live with them and work in their antique store."

"Do you have any pictures of you and them together?"

Richie shook his head no. Pictures were for families. Several of his foster parents had made that quite clear. 'No, Richie', they would say, 'I just want family for this picture.' He had learned that lesson well. Nobody wanted Richie in their pictures. So whenever cameras appeared, Richie disappeared. It was easier than watching everyone else smiling and laughing for the camera.

"Very well," Scar said. "I will talk to these people. Do not open the door for any reason." He got up and left the room.

Richie started pacing again. Several times he stopped at the door, wondering if he could sneak out without being caught. The memory of the guns that those men were carrying was enough to remove the temptation. Besides, where would he go? He had no idea where they were or if anyone else even lived here. He paused in his pacing when he thought he heard first Mac then Tessa outside the door. His hopes flared that he would be released but nothing happened. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe it hadn't been them after all. They wouldn't leave him here.

Would they?

He forced that thought away. Mac and Tessa were the best thing that had ever happened to him. They were being held prisoner somewhere too, he told himself firmly.

Richie jumped as the door opened and Scar walked in with another man. Tall and thin, Richie dubbed him Beanpole. "So did you talk to them? Am I outta here?" he asked hopefully.

"Sit down," Scar ordered. "It's time for you to tell us the truth. Your father thought he was being so smart, didn't he? Having you travel under a fake name..."

"Father? I don't have a father. I told you that before. I'm an orph..." Richie's words were cutoff when Scar slapped Richie.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Scar yelled. "I know you're Wakefield's son."

Richie put a hand up to his stinging cheek. "I don't know anybody by that name. I'm not lying! You've got me mixed up with someone else." Richie was starting to get scared now.

"So who are those people? Did your father pay them to travel with you? Or maybe MacLeod is your bodyguard, hmmm? He doesn't look like an antique dealer to me."

"Why would I need a bodyguard?" Richie asked, totally confused.

"Because you're father is a multi-millionaire, that's why."

"Boy, do you have the wrong guy." Richie couldn't help but laugh. "I was caught breaking into Mac's shop. I almost went to jail. If he hadn't taken me in, I'd probably be in jail now."

"Right. Then how did you pay for this trip?" Scar watched him intently.

"Mac bought me the tickets. I could never afford this trip."

"Or maybe your father bought them, hmmm? We know that MacLeod's tickets were purchased before yours."

"For the last time, I don't have a father," Richie insisted.

A sharper slap this time, whipping Richie's head around. The salty taste of blood entered his mouth from his split lip. He told himself he could handle this. He'd had foster fathers who had beat him up worse than this. He held onto that thought as the questioning and slaps continued.

Finally, they left him alone for a while. Richie placed his arms on the table and rested his head on them. He winced slightly at the pressure on his cheek, turning his head so that only his forehead touched his arms. He knew from past experience that his face wouldn't even show a bruise from the slaps. They had been hard enough to sting but not to bruise. Right now his face was probably bright red but that would fade shortly.

He could feel sweat rolling down his back and off his face. He couldn't remember ever being this hot before--not even on the hottest day in Seacouver. At times during the questioning, he had thought he was about to pass out but they always brought his attention back with another slap on his face.

He couldn't understand why they kept asking the same things over and over again. He didn't know what to tell them anymore--how to prove that he *was* Richie Ryan. Maybe they believed him now. Maybe that's why they left. Maybe they would take him to Mac and Tessa now. Duncan would place a hand on his shoulder for a moment and maybe give him a brief smile--the kind that always made Richie feel good inside. Tessa would put her arms around him and comfort him. He smiled at that image. He could use a little comforting about now.

When the door opened a moment later, Richie almost expected to see Mac and Tessa come through it. Instead his tormentors came in again.

They must have decided to try a new approach. They started promising Richie food, water and rest if he would just admit to being Wakefield's son. Richie was tempted. All he had to do was lie. He'd done that many times before in his life. But some part of him held back. Maybe it was because he knew that things would be worse when they found out the truth. Or maybe he had been living with Mac and Tessa too long.

Finally, they dragged him up out of his chair and tied his hands in front of him. Richie had followed quietly as he was led down the hallway by the two men. When Richie figured out that they were headed toward the small airplane sitting next to the one they had arrived on, he started to struggle. He was no match for the two men, especially with his hands bound, and they pushed him onto the plane and into a seat, fastening the seat belt over his hands so he couldn't move them. They had then taken the two front seats and started the plane's engines.

As the plane lifted from the island, Richie watched the receding ground, wondering if he would ever see Mac and Tessa again--or if they were even still alive. Well, Mac would be, but what about Tessa?

*****

Duncan watched as the sun started to set, knowing that meant cooler temperatures. It would be a welcome relief. All afternoon the heat had continued to rise in the barracks. Most of the men had stripped off their shirts but there was very little that the women could remove and still remain decent.

He was surprised at how well everyone was taking their incarceration. Several women had teamed up to keep the children entertained, telling stories and playing games. Tessa had gone over to help a short time ago, trying to keep her concern for Richie out of her mind. Most of the passengers just kept to their bunks in the afternoon heat. Dave Malone had come over and talked to Duncan and they had spent quite some time trying to come up with theories about what was going on.

It was Jack Simmons who gave them their first clue. He had been listening to their conversation and when he heard the name Gerald Wakefield, he chimed in. "I've heard of him. He owns the airline. There was an article in a magazine just last week about how he built up the airline from scratch and was now a very wealthy man."

"Does he have a son?" Duncan questioned eagerly.

"Yes, he does. His name is Richard. I think he just graduated from high school. The article said Wakefield was a widower and made it sound like the boy meant everything to him."

Duncan couldn't believe the coincidence. "That must be it. They think Richie is Wakefield's son. Although hijacking a planeload of people just to get their hands on him seems a little excessive."

"I'm sure Wakefield's son would have just been the icing on the cake. A plane full of people would have been the primary target," Malone said. "And worth a lot more money."

"You might be right." Relief flooded through Duncan now that he thought he knew the reason Richie had been detained. Surely they wouldn't hurt him as long as they believed he was Wakefield's son.

As it grew darker outside someone had tried to turn on lights in the barracks but nothing happened. More and more people were stretching out on their bunks and trying to sleep and Duncan suggested to Tessa that they do the same. They got in line to use the bathroom before returning to their bunks.

Duncan lay on his bunk and stared at the ceiling, listening to the noises that invaded the quiet. Somewhere a child cried and he heard a mother's voice trying to bring comfort. Distant sounds of waves crashing on the shore came through the open windows adding to the sounds of snoring from various bunks in the room.

Logically, Duncan knew that the men would have continued to question Richie even if he had known the young man's birthday. Emotionally, he still felt guilty about the whole thing. It also didn't help knowing that the main reason he had insisted on Richie coming on this trip wasn't because he wanted Richie along. It was because he wanted to keep the youth out of trouble--something Richie always seemed to get into no matter how hard Duncan tried to stop it.

Surely by now these men must be convinced that they had the wrong person, so why hadn't Richie been returned to the barracks? And who had been on that plane that took off?

Duncan glanced out the window and noticed dark shadows moving at the edge of the runway. As he watched, more appeared and then the shadows became men running across the concrete strip towards the building. Duncan realized that these must be commandos here to rescue the hostages. He dropped down off his bunk, placed a hand over Tessa's mouth, and shook her awake.

Duncan leaned over and whispered in Tessa's ear. "Be very quiet. I think the rescue team is here. If gunfire starts, I want you out of this bunk and on the floor. Do you understand?"

Tessa nodded her head and Duncan removed his hand before standing and looking out the window again. He watched as four of the commandos split off and headed for the building they were in. Duncan waved his arms hoping to draw their attention but not their gunfire. One of the men came over to his window while the rest went to crouch by the door.

"This building is filled with passengers," Duncan whispered to the man. "I think the crew and another passenger--a teenage boy--are being held in the hangar."

"How many hijackers are there?" The man whispered back.

"I'm not sure. Some might have left earlier. My guess is about six but I can't be sure. And they're heavily armed."

"Okay. Just stay down and we'll be back in a few minutes to get you out. Try to wake everyone up and keep them calm." The man went back to his team members and soon two of the men went on towards the hangar leaving the other two on guard at the door.

Duncan turned to Jack Simmons' bunk and woke the man the same way he had Tessa. Then he gave him instructions to do the same thing while Duncan went the other way. Before long all of the passengers were awake and sitting on lower bunks. Duncan had just returned to Tessa when the sound of gunfire shattered the night. When several people stood to look out the window, he told them to get down before they got themselves shot.

After what seemed an eternity but was in reality about ten minutes, the sound of the lock being pried loose came to Duncan's ears. Four men came into the building and lights were flashed around the bunks.

"It's over." One of the men said. "In about ten minutes, we'll start loading the airplane so that we can get you out of here."

The room erupted in noise as everyone started talking at once. People were hugging and kissing each other and some started to cry. Duncan gave Tessa a quick hug before going over to the men.

"I had a friend traveling with me--a teenager--they took him away right after we landed. Is he okay?" "As far as I know, the only other people that were rescued were the flight crew," the man said. "Come with me and we'll check it out."

Duncan and the man, who introduced himself as Captain Rodrigo headed across to the hangar. Walking into the bright lights inside, Duncan took a moment to let his eyes adjust. Four bodies were laid out on the concrete already covered with sheets. Three other men knelt with hands held behind their heads, watched carefully by armed guards. None of the prisoners were Richie. Duncan didn't want to think about the bodies.

"They had him in a room back there," Duncan gestured towards the door.

Together, he and the Captain went back to search the rooms. The one that Richie had been in was as empty as the rest. Duncan's worry about what had happened to the youth continued to grow and with leaden feet he followed Rodrigo back into the hangar. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the first dead body and flipped the sheet back and then went down the line until he had looked at all of them. He couldn't decide if he was relieved or dismayed that none of them had been Richie.

Looking back at the prisoners, Duncan recognized the man who had taken Richie off the plane. Before anyone could stop him, the Immortal headed for the man in a burst of anger and yanked him to his feet.

"Where is he? What have you done with him?" Duncan demanded.

When the man just smiled at him, Duncan went ballistic. With a snarl, the Immortal's right fist slammed into the man's face. He got in a few more hits before he was grabbed from behind and dragged off the hijacker. Duncan continued to struggle for several moments before sanity set in again and he relaxed. Captain Rodrigo and another man escorted the Highlander outside and told him to cool down.

Duncan stared at the bright, moonlit, tropical night and wondered how he was going to find one teenager amidst all of the hundreds of islands there were in the Caribbean.

A short time later, the rest of the passengers were brought out and they started boarding the plane. Tessa joined Duncan while they waited their turn.

"Richie?" Tessa asked, fear showing in her eyes.

"He's not here. They must have..." Duncan's voice broke for a moment and he struggled to regain control. "...taken him someplace else."

Tessa wrapped her arms around Duncan's waist, silently offering comfort.

Soon, they were asked to board the plane and they quietly took their seats, trying to ignore the empty seat across the aisle.

******

After the passengers had been loaded on the plane, they had been flown to their final destination. Once there, he and Tessa had talked to officials from the airline and local police. Duncan's demands to talk to Gerald Wakefield had been ignored.

Duncan had almost hit the person who asked them to go to their hotel while the officials handled the situation. Only Tessa's restraining hand had saved the man from injury. Tessa had then calmly informed the man that they had until morning to *handle* the situation or she would ensure that the whole world knew about their incompetence. Her steely glare not only convinced Duncan that she meant what she said but it also convinced the man standing in front of them. Duncan watched with a small smile as the man broke out in sweat and swallowed heavily.

Duncan's friend Matt had been waiting for them, having heard about the hijacking from a news report. He had already arranged for their rental car and helped them carry their bags out to the convertible. After giving them directions to the hotel, he told them to call him if they needed anything and left.

Once they checked in, Tessa and Duncan briefly investigated the suite. There were two bedrooms, separated by the sitting area. Each bedroom had its own bath, the master one coming complete with a Jacuzzi tub big enough for two. There were sliding glass doors from the sitting room and master bedroom that led out to a patio overlooking the beach. An umbrella table with chairs as well as chaise lounges offered a place to view the gentle waves lapping on the shore. A small kitchenette and a courtesy bar added to the amenities. It was a vacation paradise that neither of them were enjoying at the moment.

Duncan paced the sitting area while Tessa sat on the couch, idly flipping through channels on the television. Her hand froze as the words of the announcer sunk in.

"...bulletin on the hijacking of Flight 1043. We now take you live to Inter-isle Airlines company headquarters in Miami, Florida."

The scene on the TV switched to a different one where cameras were pointed at an empty podium, laden with microphones. An older man came from off camera and stepped up to the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen. I am Gerald Wakefield, owner and president of Inter-isle Airlines. It is with great pleasure that I inform you that, thanks to the US Marines, Flight 1043 has been found. The flight crew and all but one passenger have been rescued. As for the final passenger, steps are being taken to facilitate his return."

Questions erupted from the reporters.

"Where there any injuries?"

"Not to the passengers or flight crew."

"Why did one passenger get singled out?"

"We believe that it was a case of mistaken identity."

"Mr. Wakefield, rumor has it that your son was on that flight. Is he the missing passenger?"

"My son was *supposed* to be on that flight but his trip got canceled at the last minute." Wakefield gestured to someone off camera and moments later a teenager moved to stand next to him. "As you can see, my son Richard is here, safe and sound."

Duncan and Tessa exchanged startled looks as they both noticed the similarities between Wakefield's son and Richie. Both had the same build and height, and curly reddish-blond hair.

"What steps are being taken to return the other passenger?"

"I'm afraid I can't discuss that. I'm sorry, but that's all the time I have. Thank you for coming." Wakefield and his son moved off camera and the scene switched back to the news room.

Tessa shut the TV off. "Duncan, do you think they'll let Richie go once they realize they've got the wrong person?"

Duncan debated lying to Tessa so that she wouldn't worry so much. However, if what he feared would happen did, then she would be better off preparing herself for it. "I'm afraid they'll kill him, Tessa. He'll be a liability and not worth anything to them. My only hope is that they will still ask for some kind of ransom. Hopefully, the airline or Wakefield will pay it."

"Maybe they'll contact us for a ransom," Tessa suggested hopefully. "They know we were traveling together."

"Maybe. I just want you to be prepared for the worst. We might never see Richie again."

"I know, Duncan. I know." Tears started trickling down her face. "What must Richie be going through right now? How can they do this to him?"

Duncan took her in his arms and held her as she cried. Once she had calmed down, Tessa announced that she was going to unpack. She went through the door leading to their bedroom and Duncan could hear her moving around as he got up and poured himself a glass of wine from the courtesy bar.

Duncan sat back down and stared out the open patio door. Ever since he had known Richie, he had been determined to not let the youth join The Game too soon. But never in his wildest dreams or nightmares had this scenario come up. If these men did kill Richie, how would Duncan ever find the body? If Richie was buried in a shallow grave, there was the possibility that he could manage to dig himself out eventually. But if the youth was tied up or wrapped in something, the bindings would have to rot away first. That could take decades. There would always be a slim chance that another Immortal would sense him and dig him up, but hopefully it wouldn't be one who was looking for an easy Quickening. As for a deep grave... Duncan didn't even want to think about that.

Or they could just as easily dispose of the body in the ocean. Richie would be lost forever, deep beneath the waves, where no Immortal would ever be able to sense him. Whatever the scenario, the future for Richie did not look good.

He heard Tessa enter the room and watched as she headed for the door to what would have been Richie's room.

"I'm going to unpack Richie's things so they're ready for him when he gets here," she announced somewhat defiantly. "I don't want them to get too wrinkled."

Duncan didn't say anything, just gave her a brief smile. He couldn't deny her the right to hope. It probably made her feel better to be doing something rather than just sitting around and moping like he was. He took another sip of the red wine he was holding.

The sudden ringing of the telephone startled Duncan so much he spilt part of his wine down his shirt. Rubbing at the stain ineffectually, he hurried to answer. After a brief conversation, Duncan hung up the phone and turned around. Tessa was standing in the open doorway, clutching one of Richie's shirts to her chest. The thought crossed Duncan's mind that the shirt she was holding was going to be *very* wrinkled.

"Who was it?" Tessa asked with a tremor in her voice.

"It was the airline. Apparently, they've been contacted by the hijackers about a ransom and they are calling back tomorrow--no make that today--at 8:00. They want me to be there so that I can identify Richie's voice when they call."

"He's still alive!" A bright smile crossed Tessa's face.

"It looks like it."

"I'm coming with you."

Duncan expected no less. "Of course." Soon they both moved into their bedroom and climbed in bed. A total waste of time because neither of them managed to actually fall asleep.

******

Richie watched as the plane started to land. It was a lot different from his earlier flights because he could see the ground rushing up towards them from the front windows of the plane. He was tempted to close his eyes but he resisted the impulse. It was a very small airport, only one runway and the plane was taxied into a hangar.

They pulled Richie out of the plane and into the back seat of a car parked inside the hangar. A seat belt was fastened over his hips and hands before they added a blindfold and a gag, and then pushed him down so that he was laying across the seat. Finally, they tossed something heavy over him that he guessed was a blanket. Richie had no idea how long the drive had lasted. Trapped beneath the suffocating weight, he had concentrated on breathing while wondering if it was possible for a person to melt. After an eternity, the car stopped. Richie was jerked upright and the blindfold and seat belt were removed.

Richie paid close attention to his surroundings as they marched him into a house. There were no other houses in the vicinity that he could see and he had no idea how close the nearest one would be. The front door of the house led directly into the living room, which contained a sofa, a coffee table and a television. Richie had seen a kitchen through an open archway and three other doors. The first one he was shown to was a bathroom. There were no windows in the room so his captors let him use the facilities in private. It was difficult to do with his hands tied but Richie managed.

He turned the faucet on and the sight of the water flowing into the sink was pure torture. Richie struggled for a few moments trying to remove the gag but it was tied too tightly and he couldn't get his hands around to the knots in back. Cupping his hands, he splashed some on his face and his lips before the door flew open and his captors entered the room and stopped him.

Scar pulled him from the bathroom and backhanded Richie across the face, sending him stumbling into the couch. While Richie's head was still spinning from the blow, he felt his hands untied, jerked around behind him and retied. They dragged him to his feet and pulled him into a small room that only had one piece of furniture. They threw him down on the cot on his stomach and tied his feet together, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

For a while, Richie struggled with the ropes, trying to free himself but it was useless. He could feel the heavy rope abrade his wrists every time he moved them but there wasn't enough slack to allow him to pull his hands free. From where he lay, he could see the sun setting through the one window in the small room. If he could only get free, Richie was certain he could squeeze his body through the opening. The only door led out to the main room of the house so no escape was possible there.

Not knowing what else to do, Richie wiggled around on the cot, trying to find a more comfortable position. For now, all he could do was wait. Mac would find him. He always did. He just had to keep remembering that. Mac would find him. Richie closed his eyes as he repeated his litany...

A loud noise woke Richie. His heart pounded as he struggled against his bonds until he remembered where he was. He listened intently as he tried to figure out what had awakened him. He could hear noise from the living room, probably the TV. The volume was just high enough that Richie could hear the noise but not make out the words. Then without warning, the volume was turned up a notch and Richie barely breathed while the news broadcast talked about the rescue of Flight 1043.

Tessa and Mac were safe. For the first time since this ordeal started, Richie felt the hot burn of tears in his eyes. Before he could give in to the urge to cry, the door banged open against the wall and the light was turned on, blinding Richie with the sudden intensity. Rough hands dragged him upright.

"So you're not Wakefield's brat after all," Scar announced.

Richie shook his head, the gag preventing him from answering. For a brief moment he thought that maybe, just maybe they would let him go now. His hopes were quickly crushed as Scar continued speaking.

"You'd better hope that someone's willing to pay a ransom for you. I intend to get something out of this deal or I'm going to chop you up and deliver you to Wakefield in a box." The man laughed cruelly as he pushed Richie back down on the cot before leaving the room.

They'd left him alone the rest of the night. A night that seemed to drag on forever. Richie knew he had gotten some sleep but not much. He stared bleary-eyed at the window as the sky began to lighten.

Richie decided he could ignore the pain on his wrists from the rope, although he couldn't feel his hands any longer. The fact that his body odor was assaulting his nose didn't bother him. Or that his stomach sounded like a cement truck mixer. He could also have used the bathroom again but he managed to push that thought aside as well. What he couldn't ignore was that he was thirsty. Really thirsty. The cloth in his mouth felt like sand paper and he would have sworn on a stack of Bibles that his tongue had swollen up ten times its normal size.

Hearing the door open, Richie cranked his head around to watch his two captors enter the room. Beanpole held a glass of water and Richie's eyes fixed on it like a drowning man's eyes fixed on the life preserver thrown him. Scar swung Richie around and pulled him upright.

"Don't make any noise," Scar warned Richie as his hands went to the knot of the gag. Once it had been removed, he held the glass of water to Richie's mouth and the youth gulped the refreshing liquid.

All too soon it was gone, leaving Richie with his thirst only partially quenched. He ran his tongue over his dry lips, wincing as it touched the swollen area where it had split yesterday.

"Can I use the bathroom?" Richie asked. "Please?" he tacked on. The way he figured, politeness might work here so he decided to swallow his pride and give it a shot.

"Soon. Once you've done something for us, we will give you food and more water and let you use the bathroom."

Richie watched silently as Beanpole left the room and returned, moments later, carrying a tape recorder and a piece of paper. Soon a microphone was stuck in his face and the paper was held up where he could read it.

"I want you to read this paper," Scar explained. "Say nothing more or less. Understand?"

Richie nodded and started reading once the recorder was turned on. "This is Richie Ryan. I am unhurt and being well cared for." He almost laughed at that part. "I will be released unharmed if you pay the sum of two million American dollars in unmarked bills. If you agree to these demands, send a page over the intercom system of the airport once every half hour until 8:00 PM. The page should ask Richie Ryan to meet his party at the ticket counter. You will be contacted again tomorrow."

Richie felt a lead weight sink into his stomach. Who were they kidding? No one--not even Mac--would pay two million bucks for him. It was pretty obvious to him that he was one dead puppy. During the long night, Richie had realized that he couldn't count on Mac finding him in time to save him. If he was going to get out of this, he would have to do it himself. During the dark hours, Richie had come up with a plan.

Apparently his captors had been satisfied with his reading skills. The tape machine was shut off and Beanpole left the room with it. Scar reached behind Richie and untied him. As the teenager brought his hands around to the front, he stifled a gasp, the muscles across his shoulders protesting at being kept in their unusual posture for so long. As the feeling started to return to his hands, the pain became much worse but he was determined to hide any sign of it from his captors. His pride demanded that he do that much. He flexed his hands as much as he could stand while they tingled and throbbed unmercifully.

By the time Beanpole entered the room again, this time carrying a bowl of cereal, a banana and another glass of water, the feeling had returned to Richie's hands. He eagerly took the bowl and started shoveling the food into his mouth. He made a grimace as the first unsweetened taste hit. Normally, when he had cereal at home, Richie poured lots of sugar on it. Tessa's standard response whenever she caught him doing it was that the cereal had already been sweetened and he was going to rot his teeth. It had never stopped Richie.

Now, he decided that maybe sugar wasn't necessary, after all. The cereal tasted wonderful, the milk easing the dryness of his mouth. After spooning up the last bite, Richie drank the rest of the milk from the bowl. He had no idea when, or if, he would get any more food or water so he wasn't going to waste it, manners or no manners. The banana was next, gone in three swallows, followed by the glass of water. He decided that he had just had a banquet fit for a king.

Beanpole came over and untied Richie's feet before picking up the empty glass and bowl. Scar pulled a gun from behind his back and motioned for Richie to get up and took him to the bathroom. For a brief moment, Richie debated making a run for the front door but a look at the gun being pointed at him quickly changed his mind.

Once again, he found himself back in his prison, hands and feet being tied. When Scar went to put the gag back on, Richie pulled back. "Please. I'll keep quiet. You don't have to gag me."

Scar stared at him intently for a moment. "Very well. But if you make one noise, I'll make sure you regret it." He left the room, shutting the door behind him. Several minutes later, the front door slammed and Richie heard a car start up and drive off.

Not knowing whether one or both of them left, Richie decided he couldn't wait any longer. It was time to see if his plan worked. He'd gotten the idea from a book he had read the last time they had spent a week at Mac's island cabin. It had rained almost constantly and when Richie had started sneezing, Tessa had refused to let him go outside. In sheer boredom, he had searched through Mac's bookshelves and found a book on escape artists. It had talked about how they would flex their muscles before they were tied. Then all they had to do was relax and the ropes would fall away. When Scar had retied him, Richie had given it a try.

Now Richie tried to slip out of the ropes. He could feel them digging into his already sore wrists and gave a small moan. He stopped and listened, afraid that someone would come to investigate. Maybe he should have let Scar gag him after all. When nobody showed up, Richie went back to work, gritting his teeth against the pain. It seemed to take forever, but finally he felt the ropes slipping down over one hand. A few more minutes of struggle and pain and his hands were free.

For a moment, he just sat there, hugging his blood stained hands to his chest, taking deep breaths. Once he calmed down, he untied his feet and got up, and checked out the open window. There was no one in sight. He carefully lifted the cot and put in down in front of the window, stood on it and eased himself outside, head first. His hands hit the ground first and he rolled over and up to his feet in one easy movement that would have made any gymnast proud.

Keeping low, Richie moved around the house until he reached the front. The bushes around the house looked impenetrable and he knew his only escape was across the open driveway. It was a risk but he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, Richie ran down the driveway as fast as he could. Heart pounding, legs pumping, expecting to hear the sound of a gun behind him, he almost couldn't believe it when he reached the road safely. He crouched down out of sight and reviewed the trip from the night before. After thinking about it, he turned left and started walking down the dirt road.

*****

Duncan and Tessa sat in the airline manager's office anxiously waiting for the phone to ring. Everything had been set up to trace the call and a local police officer, Lieutenant Sanchez, was on hand as well as a company vice president. The man had introduced himself as Rafe Hutchins and explained that he had been authorized to represent the airline in the hostage negotiation.

Duncan had wasted no time in chit-chat. "Have you talked to the other hijackers in custody? Maybe one of them knows where they took Richie."

Rafe shook his head. "If they do, they're not talking. We even offered to lighten the charges if one of them talked. No deal."

"Do you have any idea why the hijackers called here? Why didn't they call the main office in Miami?"

"This used to be the main office until about five years ago. The only other reason we came up with is that they are holding Ryan somewhere on this island. At this point, your guess is as good as ours."

"You do realize that the hijackers had inside help, don't you?"

"What do you mean." Rafe looked bothered by Duncan's question.

Duncan listed off his reasons. "They knew Wakefield's son was supposed to be on that flight. They had to have help getting guns on board. And they knew that Richie's tickets had been bought later than ours. That spells inside information to me."

"We'll definitely investigate," Rafe promised.

Duncan glanced over at Tessa. She had dark rings under her eyes, mute testimony to lack of sleep and worry. This wasn't the kind of vacation getaway that he had wanted for her. He reached for her hand and when she turned and looked at him, he gave her an encouraging smile.

"They'll call, Tessa. Any minute now."

"They're fifteen minutes late already! How can you be so sure?"

"Because they want money," Rafe explained. "This is just a ploy to make us anxious. They want us to be worried."

"Well, they're succeeding," Tessa claimed.

Everyone jumped as a knock came on the door. A woman entered and gave a package to Rafe before leaving. He ripped the covering off and opened the box.

"Damn," Rafe muttered as he held up a cassette tape. "They aren't going to call. This must be their instructions." He turned to Sanchez and handed him the tape.

Moments later, the recorder that had been set up to tape the incoming call was playing back the cassette. Duncan felt Tessa's hand clench his arm hard as Richie's voice filled the room.

Rafe turned to them when the message was over. "Was that Richie Ryan?"

Duncan nodded, not trusting his voice yet.

Rafe sat down behind the desk and appeared to be lost in thought.

"You *are* going to pay the ransom, aren't you?" Duncan asked. His mind still boggled at the two million dollar price tag.

Rafe didn't answer and the silence in the room grew tense.

"Well?" Tessa prompted.

Rafe looked at the two of them with deep regret showing on his face. "I'm sorry. If they had been willing to be reasonable, we would have paid the ransom. I had hoped that we could negotiate but that's a little hard to do with a cassette tape. And two million dollars.... well, that's too much to pay for someone like Ryan."

"Someone like Ryan?" Duncan's voice had grown cold. "What do you mean?"

"We did a little investigating. We needed to be sure he wasn't part of the whole setup. He's got a juvie record longer than his arm."

"So what you're telling us is that if Richie had come from a *nice* family, had never gotten into trouble and was an honor student, you *would* have paid the ransom?" Tessa's voice made Duncan's last comment sound positively cheery. "But a boy who's grown up in foster homes and been in trouble isn't worth saving?"

"If the ransom had been for a more reasonable amount..."

Tessa stood, placed her hands on the desk and leaned over towards Rafe. "How nice to be able to put a price tag on someone's life," she started sarcastically. "How much was Richie worth? One million? Half a million? Or maybe only a thousand dollars?"

"Tessa...." Duncan started but a scathing look from Tessa stopped him.

Tessa drew herself upright and glared at Rafe Hutchins. "I hope you remember this day for the rest of your life. Of how you condemned a bright, enthusiastic, young man to death, simply because he had a rough life. And I hope you rot in hell!" With that statement Tessa turned and stormed towards the door of the office.

"Miss Noel, please wait," Lt. Sanchez called after her.

For a moment, Duncan thought Tessa would keep going, but she stopped at the last minute and turned around. "What?" she demanded.

"Just because the airline won't pay the ransom, doesn't mean that we can't do something. Please come back and sit down while we discuss our options."

Duncan could tell that Tessa was reluctant to do so, but she finally came back to her seat and sat down with her arms folded across her chest. "Okay. Discuss."

"I believe our best option is to act like we're going to pay the ransom. That buys us at least another day. I'll bring some people in to hang around the terminal. Hopefully, they'll spot whoever is waiting for the broadcast message and be able to follow them. If not, we'll put a homing device in a fake ransom payoff tomorrow and follow them to where they have Mr. Ryan hidden. If all goes well, we'll have your friend back to you tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"That sounds like a good plan," Duncan said. "But I have another suggestion. How much *was* your company willing to put up for ransom. Maybe we can raise the difference."

Rafe looked uneasily at Tessa before answering. "Half a million. That's all. Can you raise the difference?"

"I don't know. If I had more time..." Duncan said with a frown. "All I can do is try. Come on, Tessa. Let's go. I need to start making some phone calls."

As they walked through the terminal, they heard the first page being made. Suddenly Tessa grabbed Duncan's arm and pulled him to a stop. "That's him!" she announced.

"Who?"

"The tall, lanky man with the red T-shirt on, over there." Tessa pointed to a set of chairs. "Do you see him?"

"Yes," Duncan admitted. "But who is he?"

"He's the one who interrogated me!" Tessa exclaimed.

"Are you certain?"

Tessa threw a disbelieving look at Duncan. "Of course I'm sure. I'd never forget that face. Look! He's leaving."

"Okay. Tessa, I want you to call Matt. Have him come pick you up and take you back to the hotel. And tell Sanchez as well."

"I'm coming with you," Tessa declared.

"Don't argue, Tessa. I need to know that you're safe. Don't ask me to risk both your life and Richie's as well."

Tessa sighed. "Be careful."

"I will. I love you."

Duncan hurried to where he had parked their car and started following the other man, who had climbed into a blue car. They had gone fifteen miles when the car pulled off onto a small dirt road and Duncan dropped back further to keep from being spotted. He almost missed the house. He hadn't been close enough to see the car pull in. It wasn't until he was almost past the place that he caught the glimpse of blue in a carport.

Duncan stopped his car out of sight and headed back to the house on foot. He carefully skirted the house, checking it out. It was fairly basic. Only one door in. Windows in the front, back and on one side. Cautiously he sidled up to one of the windows and peered in. He recognized the two men standing in a room off the main one, the first being the person he had followed here, the other being the scar-faced man who had interrogated him. They seemed to be arguing but Duncan couldn't make out the words. As they headed into the main room, Duncan dropped down out of sight.

Before he had a chance to plan anything, the front door flew open and the men emerged. Acting quickly, Duncan attacked. The tall one went down with the first blow. The scar-faced one put up more of a fight but he was no match for an angry Immortal Highlander. He hauled their unconscious bodies back into the house and left them on the floor while he searched the rest of the house.

Duncan was fairly certain that Richie wasn't there. He couldn't sense him in the building. But still, he had to check it out. When he looked into the room where the two men had been arguing, Duncan was sure that he had found the right place. Two pieces of rope lay on top of a cot and a knotted rope that looked like it had been used as a gag lay on the floor. He feared that he was too late and they had already disposed of Richie's body.

He picked up one of the ropes and felt something sticky. Looking down at his hands, he saw what looked like blood. Looking more intently at the room, he noticed dark spots on the floor and on the cot. He looked at the open window and found more dark smears on the window sill. Was it possible that Richie had escaped? Hope flared inside.

Going back into the other room, Duncan tied his two prisoners' hands behind their backs using the ropes he had found. He was determined to get some answers and there were no marines here to pull him away. Duncan hauled them up and set them on the couch. Duncan spotted the tape recorder that they must have used to record their ransom demands, along with another tape. A few minutes later, he had the equipment set up on and ready to go. He retrieved a chair from the kitchen, and waited for them to regain consciousness.

When the first one moaned, Duncan turned on the tape recorder before lightly slapping the man's cheek until the man's eyes opened. Then he repeated the maneuver with the other one. Seeing them both watching him intently, Duncan pulled his katana out from his sports coat and watched with a certain amount of glee as his prisoners' eyes grew wide.

"Where is Richie?" he started as he rested the katana up against the tall one's throat.

"I... I..." the man swallowed nervously. "I don't know. Honest, man! He was in that room when I left this morning."

Duncan turned towards the other one. "And what do you have to say? Or would you prefer a matching set?" he asked as he touched his sword to the man's scar.

The man just glared at Duncan so the Highlander lightly flicked his sword to the unmarred cheek and made a small cut. The man flinched but still didn't talk. "Very well," Duncan said. "If you insist." He started to go for the cheek again.

"Okay. Okay. I don't know where he is either. He was tied up in the room the last time I checked. He must have gotten free somehow."

"How long has it been since you checked on him?"

"Not since this morning, around six, I think."

Duncan glanced at his watch. Almost four hours. Richie could be anywhere by now. He continued asking questions and soon had the whole story. The man with the scar had been a partner with Wakefield when they first started the airline but had been forced to sell his portion to his partner when his wife had gotten sick. Within a year, the company had been raking in huge profits and he felt that he deserved part of the profits from the company and had set out to get them. A little more convincing with the sword got Duncan the names of insiders who had helped with the hijacking, including the ones who had smuggled the guns on board the airplane.

Satisfied with the answers, Duncan picked up the phone and called Sanchez. After giving the lieutenant directions, he tried the hotel only to be informed that there was no answer in their suite. He tried twice more before Sanchez showed up, the first time there was no answer and the second time the line was busy.

Sanchez finally arrived with several other officers. Duncan filled him in and then gave him the cassette tape filled with the men's confessions. Sanchez immediately went back out to his squad car and broadcast a bulletin to the rest of his small force to be on the lookout for Richie. He assured Duncan that the youth would be found soon.

Duncan debated whether to start searching himself or head back to the hotel. Almost certain now that the hijackers had all been caught, any threat to Tessa had been removed. There would be no reason why she couldn't help with the search for Richie. One more try to reach Tessa was unsuccessful, so he went to his car and started back.

******

Tessa paced anxiously outside the airport waiting for Matt to show up. It had taken several tries before she finally reached him and thirty minutes had passed since then. Once she spotted him, she quickly climbed in his car. Matt pulled her into a hug and Tessa clung to him for a moment before pulling back. After explaining everything, she sat back on her side of the car and watched as Matt headed for the hotel.

She had liked Matt from the start. In so many ways he reminded her of Duncan. In fact, if Matt would die his sun-bleached hair and shave off his beard, he could almost be mistaken for Duncan from a distance.

"I'm going to stay with you," Matt insisted as he helped Tessa from the car once they had reached the hotel. He gallantly offered her his arm and Tessa had taken it with a grateful smile.

As they walked towards the elevators, Tessa noticed a commotion going on around the desk on the far side of the large lobby. She started turning away but a familiar sounding voice drew her attention. She pulled away from Matt and moved closer to the desk, trying not to get her hopes up.

As she moved closer, one of the group shifted and she caught sight of a very familiar face. "Richie!" she yelled as she finished running the rest of the way across the lobby and almost threw herself at the young man. "You're all right! Did Duncan find you? Are you hurt?"

Richie shook his head and buried his face in her shoulder. She could feel him trembling and her arms tightened around him. "What's going on here?" she asked the manager, angrily.

"Do you know this.... this... person, Miss Noel?" The manager asked with a slight sneer as he gazed at Richie's disheveled appearance.

"Yes, I do. He's staying in our suite with us. You should have his name down... Richie Ryan. Is this your customary way of treating your guests?" Icicles dripped from her voice.

With a wave of the manager's hand the rest of the people returned to work. "Of course not, Miss Noel. I just thought..."

Tessa cut him off. "I know what you thought. Come on, Richie, let's go to our room." Keeping one arm around the youth's shoulders, she led him toward the elevator and Matt.

"They were going to throw me out," Richie said. "I guess I'm not the kind of guest they want."

"Nobody is going to throw you out, Richie. And I'll make sure the manager apologizes to you later," Tessa said as the elevator doors closed. She noticed Richie eyeing Matt and introduced him. "This is our friend, Matt--the one who's having the birthday. Matt, this is Richie."

Matt stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Richie."

Richie looked at the hand for a moment. "Hi. Um... I'm sorry but I don't think you want to shake my hand right now. It's kind of a mess." He held up one hand as proof.

"Richie! Your hand! What happened? What did they do to you?" Tessa quickly looked at the other hand and it was just as bad. Both of Richie's wrists looked raw and there were rough scrapes on both hands. At first she had just thought they were dirty but now she realized it was dried blood. The same was true for the marks on his shirt and pants. "We'll get you to a hospital right away," she declared.

"I don't need a hospital," Richie insisted. "They look worse than they really are. A little soap and water and a few Band-Aids and they'll be as good as new."

The elevator doors opened at that moment and they exited onto their floor. Soon they were in their room and Tessa led Richie over to the sofa and pushed him down.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Tessa asked with a frown as she examined his hands more closely. "And what did they do to your hands?"

"No, they didn't hurt me. I'm just thirsty and hungry mostly. As for my hands... well, I guess I did that myself when I got out of the rope they tied me with. Where's Mac?"

"He's following one of the hijackers that Tessa spotted, hoping that he would lead him to you," Matt explained as he brought a glass of water to Richie. "But you managed to escape on your own, didn't you?"

Richie nodded. "Thanks." He started to gulp it down.

"Take it easy," Matt warned. "If you drink it too fast, you'll just get sick."

Richie nodded again and began to sip the water while Tessa got on the phone to the manager.

Tessa returned to the sofa. "They're contacting a local doctor. He should be here in thirty minutes. Richie, do you think you can eat something? I can order from room service."

"I could eat a horse," Richie declared with a small grin.

"Well, I don't think they have that on the menu," Tessa joked. "What would you like?"

"Um... pancakes... and eggs and bacon... and toast.... orange juice... milk.... oh and maybe some hash browns and sausages... yeah... don't forget the sausages..."

Tessa noticed Matt's eyes widen as Richie listed his menu off. She gave a small laugh. It felt so good to laugh again. "I'll call the order in. Do you think that will last you for an hour or two?"

"Well.... I'll try to survive." Richie looked doubtful. "What I really want to do is take a shower."

Tessa frowned. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. Maybe you should wait for the doctor."

"Please, Tessa!" Richie turned pleading eyes on her. "I'll be careful and try not to drown. It's just that I.... stink."

"All right. But make it a quick one. If you're not back out here in fifteen minutes, I'll send Matt in for you."

"Okay. Where's the shower?"

Tessa pointed to the door leading to his room before calling room service. Richie reappeared within the allotted time wearing a new T-shirt and shorts. His hair was still wet so Tessa suggested they move out to the patio where she knew the warm tropical breeze would dry it in no time at all.

She had Matt angle the umbrella covering the table so that Richie would be in the shade before sitting down and taking a closer look at his hands. Now that they were cleaner, she could see that Richie had been right. They weren't hurt quite as badly as she thought, although they still looked painful.

When a knock came at the door, Matt went to answer it and moments later showed up with a bellhop pushing a cart. Soon Richie was happily digging into his meal while Tessa watched him with a smile.

"Tessa, I'm going to go call the police and let them know that Richie is okay. They'll probably want to question him about...." Matt paused and his eyes took on a look Tessa had seen on Mac's face on occasion.

"Another Immortal?" she questioned.

"It's probably just Duncan," Matt assured her but his hand reached for the hilt of his sword under his sports jacket. He relaxed when the door burst open and he saw who it was.

"Out here, Duncan," Tessa called. Seconds later he appeared at the patio door. "Look who's here!"

Duncan looked stunned. "Richie! How did you get here?"

Richie swallowed the mouthful that he had been chewing. "Hey, Mac. I got tired of waiting for you to rescue me so I rescued myself."

"Well, that was pretty inconsiderate of you," Duncan teased him before going over and pulling the youth up and into a bear hug. He pulled back, leaving his hands resting on Richie's shoulders. "Did they hurt you?" He stared deep into the youth's eyes, searching for the truth.

Richie shrugged. "Not really. Nothing I couldn't handle."

"The hotel is sending a doctor to check him out anyway," Tessa informed Duncan. "As for not hurting him, take a look at his hands."

"Tessa...." Richie moaned. "I already told you.... I did that to myself. When I was trying to escape."

Duncan ignored Richie, gently lifting the youth's hands and inspecting them. "I saw the blood on the ropes and the floor. You had me worried."

"It's nothing," Richie insisted. "I was worried about both of you, too," He mumbled before he gave a longing gaze at the food on the table. "Can I finish my breakfast now?"

"Of course, Richie." Duncan turned to Matt. "Have you contacted the police yet?"

"I was just going to do that when you came in. Should I tell them anything else?" Matt asked.

Duncan shook his head. "I just left them. Richie, were there more than two of them?"

Richie shook his head and mumbled something around the food in his mouth.

Tessa looked at the youth in exasperation. "Richie, don't talk with food in your mouth. We couldn't understand a thing you said."

Richie swallowed quickly and then took a gulp of milk. "Well, maybe he shouldn't ask questions when I have food in my mouth. You'd make a great waiter, Mac." Richie scowled at Duncan for a moment. "Scar and Beanpole were the only two I ever saw once we left the other island."

Duncan looked blankly at Richie for a moment before laughing. "I guess that does describe them, doesn't it?" Hearing a knock on the door, he went back into the suite to answer it. Moments later he reappeared, bringing along a woman he introduced as Dr. Majora.

Richie reluctantly left his half-eaten meal behind and went to his bedroom with the doctor. While they were gone, Matt decided to leave, saying that he still had a lot to do to get ready for the party, but making Duncan promise to call and fill him in on all the gory details.

After Matt was gone, Duncan sat down on one of the patio chairs and gave out a deep sigh. Tessa went over to him, sat down in his lap, and hugged him tightly.

"It's over now, Duncan. Right?"

"Yes. All of the hijackers are either dead or in prison and the police have a list of insiders who helped. Other than the final interview with the police, I think we can just forget about this and start enjoying our vacation."

"Ummm. Or maybe just getting some sleep." Tessa gave a big yawn and slumped against Duncan's chest. "I think the lack of sleep is starting to catch up to me."

"I feel the same way. It's been quite a trip so far, hasn't it?"

Hearing a door open in the suite, Duncan looked up and saw Richie and the doctor coming towards the patio. He nudged Tessa, who moved back to her own chair.

"How is he, Doctor?" Duncan asked as she came out on the patio, followed by Richie, who flopped down in a chair.

"Richie is just fine. A little dehydrated. Just be sure he drinks extra fluids for the next 24 hours. As for his wrists, I've cleaned them and put an antibiotic cream on the wounds. They should heal just fine without any scarring. I'll leave a prescription for the cream at the front desk and they can get it filled for you. Apply it every four hours for the next two days and if you see any signs of infection, please call me immediately." She handed a business card to Duncan. "One last thing. No swimming for at least a week--pool or ocean."

"What?" Richie looked dismayed. "But... but... I won't get a chance to do anything then. We'll be on our way home. I wanted to go snorkeling and body surfing and swimming..."

"I'm sorry," Dr. Majora said. "Trust me on this. You don't want to get salt water or chlorine on those wounds. And be sure to wear plenty of sunscreen," she warned. "With your complexion, you'll burn very easily."

"Yes, ma'am," Richie replied with a subdued look.

"Fine. Hopefully, you won't need to see me the rest of your vacation here. Enjoy your stay." With a brief nod, she left.

"Enjoy your stay. Yeah, right," Richie said bitterly.

Tessa went over and hugged him. "There's plenty to do here besides the ocean. I'm sure you'll still have a good time."

"Yes, Richie. Just think about how many girls will want to help you put sunscreen on so that you don't get any on your injuries," Duncan said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Richie brightened at the thought. "Yeah, I can see that."

"You two are impossible," Tessa scolded with a smile.

Lt. Sanchez showed up then and Richie told them about his experience. As he talked about being gagged and blindfolded, Tessa reached for Duncan's hand, seeking comfort.

"How exactly did you escape?" Sanchez asked.

Richie explained about the book on escape artists. He looked down at his hands. "I guess I didn't flex enough," he said ruefully. "After I got the rope off my hands, I untied my feet, and went out the window. I was pretty sure that the car had turned right as it pulled up to the house last night so I went left when I got to the road. I followed it until I came to a highway and then I got lucky and someone picked me up. I couldn't believe it when I found out I was on the right island. So I asked the guy to drop me off at the hotel and here I am."

"Well, I think you are a very lucky young man," Sanchez stated with a smile. "All of the hijackers are on their way back to Florida where they will stand trial. You might be called as a witness, but I have a feeling that the men will plead guilty to the charges. There is too much evidence against them." Rising to his feet, he wished them a pleasant stay and left them in peace.

"Richie." Duncan waited until the youth looked at him. "I'm very proud of you. You kept your head *and* managed to escape on your own. That takes a special kind of courage."

Richie stared at Duncan for a moment before stuttering out, "Th-thanks, Mac." He turned his eyes away in embarrassment. Never in his life had anyone said they were proud of *him*--Richie Ryan, street punk.

Sensing how emotional Richie felt about Duncan's statement, Tessa tried to diffuse the atmosphere. "Why don't we give room service a break and go out somewhere and get something to eat?"

Richie jumped to his feet, glad for the excuse. "That's a great idea, Tessa. I'm starving."

"How can you be starving?" Duncan asked with a smile. "You just finished eating an hour ago."

"Hey, being kidnapped is hard work! It's not like they fed me all that much, you know. Besides, I never got a chance to finish. Someone kept interrupting me." Richie kept up a steady stream of comments all the way out the door and down to the main lobby.

After lunch, Tessa insisted they all go back and take a nap. They spent a quiet afternoon and evening hanging around the suite and sitting on the patio, watching the ocean waves roll up on the beach.

The next day, they decided to go to the beach. Despite the restrictions against swimming, Richie found himself eagerly looking forward to it. He was the first one ready and sat perched on the couch waiting for the other two to emerge from their bedroom.

Tessa came out first, carrying her beach wrap in her hand. Richie felt his mouth drop open when he saw her bikini. "Tessa! You can't go to the beach like that! It's...it's... indecent!"

Tessa looked at him with surprise. "What are you talking about, Richie? This suit is very modest compared to some that you'll see today."

"Huh. I have bandannas with more material than that suit has."

"Don't exaggerate, Richie," Tessa said with a smile.

Richie appealed to Mac as he came out of his bedroom. "Mac, you're not going to let her go out in public dressed like that, are you?"

"She looks fine to me, Rich." Duncan's eyes took on a glow as they rested on Tessa.

"Well, at least tell me you're taking your sword! You're going to need it to keep all the guys away."

"I don't think he'll need his sword," Tessa answered as she patted Richie on the cheek. "If some guy tries to approach me, I'll tell him I'm with you two and that way he'll know that he doesn't have a chance."

Once they reached the beach, Richie discovered that Tessa had been right about her bathing suit. He practically got whiplash watching the ladies walking by, many in thong bikinis.

The first hour, Richie behaved himself, but then the lure of the ocean became too much for him. Duncan found him in the water up to his waist and all but dragged him out.

"The doctor said no swimming," Duncan said.

"But I wasn't swimming, I was just standing," Richie defended himself. "Besides, my hands weren't in the water."

Duncan scowled at him. "Stay out of the ocean. Understand?"

Richie nodded. The second time Duncan caught him in the water, Mac threatened to have Richie on a plane headed back to Seacouver within the hour if it happened again. Richie wisely decided to stay out of the ocean for the rest of the day.

That night they attended Matt's birthday party. He had decided on a beach party and pig roast. Duncan would have sworn that Matt had invited half the island, especially the female half. This, of course, made Richie very happy.

Duncan watched as Richie joined in the festivities whole-heartedly. He tried to do the limbo, laughing in good humor as his legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground. Later, he dragged Tessa into the conga line snaking its way around the torches that lit the area. Duncan kept a keen eye on him, making sure that the rum punch that was flowing so abundantly amongst the party-goers didn't flow into the youth's cup.

As Duncan watched the young man laughing and smiling, he felt a heavy weight lift from his heart. Despite the bad start to the trip, it was turning out just fine. Richie had shrugged off his bad experience as if it had never happened.

****

Something woke Duncan. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was just after three. A few seconds later he noticed a shadow moving around on the patio. He grabbed his katana and went to investigate. As he approached the sliding glass door, he realized who it was and left his sword behind. He slid open the screen as quietly as he could, trying not to disturb Tessa and went outside.

"Can't sleep?" Duncan questioned.

Richie shook his head. "Bad dreams. I'm sorry I woke you. I didn't mean to. I just needed some air... or maybe I just needed to be outside."

Duncan realized that he had been too hasty in his judgment earlier. Richie had been affected by what happened after all. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about. It's over. We're all safe. The hijackers are all in custody. So why am I having nightmares?"

"Richie, you've been through a traumatic experience. It's not unusual to have nightmares about it. Why don't you tell me about it. Maybe it will help."

"It's nothing specific. Just a feeling of being helpless. And I'm afraid and alone. Pretty dumb, huh?"

"Not at all. I get nightmares like that occasionally. I think the fear of being alone is deep inside everyone." "So what do I do about it?" Richie asked.

"Try reminding yourself that you're not alone. No matter where you are, Tessa and I are with you in here." Duncan lightly tapped Richie's chest and then his forehead. "In your heart and mind. The same as you will always be in ours. No one can take that away from us."

Richie thought about it for a while. "I guess that makes sense. Thanks, Mac. I'll try to remember that."

"It's what keeps me going sometimes," Duncan admitted. "Knowing that the people I've known and loved through the years are still with me in one way or another. And that those I love and hold dearly now, will be with me until the day I die."

There was silence between the two as they contemplated their futures. Richie broke the silence first by giving a big yawn. Duncan laughed briefly. "I think it's time for us to be back in bed," he suggested.

Richie nodded agreement and the two headed inside.

*****

The days sped by. They took many beach walks during which Richie collected sea shells. Sometimes he found so many that Tessa and Duncan had to help carry them back. Duncan finally put his foot down and told the young man he could only keep two of each kind. Richie had complained at first, but finally saw the wisdom of Duncan's words.

One day they rented a boat and visited several smaller islands in the area. Richie practically fell out of the boat as they cruised past a beach where none of the swimmers and sun-bathers were wearing any suits. When Richie reached for the binoculars they had brought along, Tessa snatched them from him, telling Richie he could see more than enough without them.

Another day, they went down in a small submersible to view the underwater life. It wasn't quite the same as snorkeling but it would have to do. Duncan had bought all the tickets for one ride so that Richie and Tessa would not have to share the viewing ports and could move around from one side to the other. Duncan watched as Tessa and Richie oohed and aahed over the coral and the brightly colored fish that swam by. For a moment, Tessa appeared to be no older than Richie but then she turned and smiled at him, in a very sexy way, her eyes promising a reward later that night.

On their last day on the island, Duncan listened to Tessa and Richie gently bickering as they packed. Richie wanted more room for his shells and Tessa was trying to fit in all the clothes she had purchased during their stay. Knowing that this would happen, Duncan brought out the new suitcase he had bought and solved the problem.

Watching the two tanned, relaxed individuals, packing the new bag, brought a smile to Duncan's face. Both Richie's and Tessa's nightmares were a thing of the past. Despite everything, the trip had been a success and had accomplished its purpose. He had debated extending their trip for another week but he and Tessa had commitments back in Seacouver. Maybe they would come back next year...

The end.


End file.
